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<title>Dead Like Me: The Unexpected Afterlife of Nicol Amalfi by Neither_Nor</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24581107">Dead Like Me: The Unexpected Afterlife of Nicol Amalfi</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neither_Nor/pseuds/Neither_Nor'>Neither_Nor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Gundam SEED</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Afterlife, Alternate Universe, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Matter of Life and Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:15:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24581107</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neither_Nor/pseuds/Neither_Nor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For most, death is a doorway to their final rest or retribution. For Nicol, that door opened into his new job as a grim reaper. With a new face and name he moves among the living collecting souls of the doomed, forever severed from his past life. That is, until one day when an old friend has an appointment with death. Even if Nicol can stop it, what are the consequences for defying the will of the universe?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dead Like Me: The Unexpected Afterlife of Nicol Amalfi</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[[ Inspired by the 2003-2004 TV show <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dead_Like_Me">Dead Like Me</a>. Originally written for a <a href="https://nicolamalfi.tumblr.com/">Nicol Amalfi RP blog</a>. ]]</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>Death had been no more than a blink. A painless flash from the cockpit of the Blitz to the bustling arrivals terminal at the Aprilius One Spaceport. Still in his red flightsuit, Nicol stood there blinking at the familiar sight, his memory of the last few moments curiously blank. People flowed past without so much as a glance his way.</p><p>Before he could wonder at how he came to be there, a businessman passed through him in one quick stride. Through him. As if he were no more than air. He didn’t feel a thing and yet it shocked him like a punch to the gut. In a flash of panic he unlatched his helmet and threw it to the floor.</p><p>It didn’t make a sound.</p><p>Nicol stared as someone walked through it.</p><p>‘Christ, I hate when you guys show up during rush hour.’ A man approached Nicol with a tired smile and outstretched hand. Unlike everyone else, he seemed to be staring right at him.</p><p>‘You can… see me?’ Nicol asked. When the man continued to watch him expectantly, Nicol hesitantly reached out to shake his hand. Rather than passing through, his hand met real, solid flesh.</p><p>The man nodded. ‘Indeed, but I’m the only one. My name is Ernesto. Think of me as your new boss and tour guide. Now, come with me.’</p><p>Ernesto gently took Nicol by the elbow and led him through the crowd. Businessmen and women, soldiers, a group of kids: none would meet Nicol’s gaze as it darted from one face to the next. A baby propped on its mother’s shoulder seemed to stare at him wide-eyed as they passed.</p><p>He looked back at Ernesto, who appeared to be about his father’s age. ‘Why…how did that man,’ he began, but Ernesto gave a shake of his head that said to wait.</p><p>They emerged into a familiar city bright with sunset colours glinting off glass and coating the sleek buildings around them. It all had to be real. The ground beneath his feet was solid. Nicol reached up to squeeze his arm: still real.</p><p>‘You’re dead, kid,’ Ernesto said bluntly as they came to a stop. ‘Best to just rip that bandage off right now. You’re dead, but you’re not done. It’s onwards, not upwards, for us lucky few. You see, we’re what people might call <em>grim reapers.</em> We take the souls of people due to die and after they finally croak we escort their souls to safety. Once you’ve had your funeral you’ll get a new physical body and start your job as a reaper. Sound good?’</p><p>He had stated it all so matter-of-factly that Nicol could only stare in disbelief. ‘I—dead? Grim reapers? That’s…’ </p><p>‘Yet here we are. I’ve been at it for… thirty or so years. No one knows how long their assignment is for. You were some lucky bastard’s last reap, so you took their place. Just like how I took someone’s place when I died. We’ve got two others on the team here, so I’ll see if you can stay with them for the time being.’</p><p>The plaza around them, the distant sound of traffic, the people hurriedly striding into the spaceport… it was all real. And so were grim reapers. Nicol gave his arm another squeeze. And so was he.</p>
<hr/><p>As years passed for the living, so they passed for the undead among them. Nicol’s team was one of many in the External Influence Division, reaping the souls of those killed in accidents and homicides. While he and fellow reapers still saw his original self, which now looked too young for the years he felt, the living saw the new body he had been assigned, with its deep olive complexion, dark hair, and large blue eyes. </p><p>Contact with the living from his previous life was forbidden, despite the increasingly complex plans he pitched to Ernesto. Nicol caught snatches of information over the years, but that was almost worse than knowing nothing at all. It gnawed at him, pained him like an old wound he refused to let heal. If only he could pass a simple message, like: <em>‘I love you, please don’t be sad’,</em> or <em>‘I’m sorry’</em>. Just once.</p><p>The feeling was always rekindled on days when a reap appointment—the estimated time of death for a soul he was assigned to escort—brought him to a place where he might find a familiar face. They, of course, would only see a stranger. That was why Ernesto had decided to join him for his reap at the Supreme Council Building today. They were making small talk in the lobby, waiting for Nicol’s reap to appear, when a familiar voice rose above the mingled conversations.</p><p>‘Hey, Nico! You’ve got one here too?’</p><p>Nicol turned and quickly spotted Petros, his roommate and fellow reaper, making his way through a crowd of kids on a school trip.</p><p>'Hey P,’ he said as Petros joined them.</p><p>Ernesto gave a nod of greeting. ‘You here for your appointment?’ he asked in a tone that said there would be trouble if he wasn’t.</p><p>'Of course,’ Petros replied with a wave of his hand. 'It’s that guy over there, in the group from Orb. Kinda tall, fancy uniform. Blue hair... In need of a trim if you ask me.’</p><p>A sudden dread gripped Nicol’s chest and he felt ill for the first time in his afterlife. The conversation around him fell away as he scanned the shifting crowd for Orb insignias. It could be anyone. With the renewed peace came more emissaries and visitors, so there were more foreigners about than ever before. It was probably just one of them.</p><p>He caught a flash of the man’s face in profile. It was older than he remembered, but still familiar. Painfully so.</p><p>There, surrounded by a group in Orb uniforms and with his back now to Nicol and the other reapers, was Athrun. A man due for an appointment with death.</p><p>Ernesto put a hand on Nicol’s shoulder, as if sensing his racing thoughts. <em>'You don’t mess with fate, Peanut,’ </em>he said.<em> ‘People die when they are meant to die. There’s no discussion. There’s no negotiation. When life’s done, it’s done. You of all people should know that</em>.’</p><p>Nicol stared after Athrun’s retreating form as the group began to move down a corridor.</p><p>'Let me do it.’ The words spilled out in a desperate heap. ‘Let me do it,’ he repeated. ‘Let me do it.’ His voice crumbled more each time as he fought back the sting of tears. The group was almost out of view; the opportunity was slipping away. Before the other reapers could react, Nicol turned and ran.</p><p> </p>
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